Sins of the fathers, burdens of the sons
by dmf1984
Summary: Dr. Lee Rosen protects a runaway boy with special abilities.  Is he an Alpha, or is he just troubled... possibly both.
1. Chapter 1

"Sins of the fathers, burdens of the sons"

An Alphas fan-fic, set shortly after the end of Season 1. I didn't mean for it to, but this may turn into a mild cross-over fic whether I like it or not.

Disclaimer: I am not Zak Penn or Michael Karnow, I do not own "Alphas", and I do not make money from these stories.

Rating: K+ to T (just to be on the safe side); LR/OFC; CH/NT.

A/N: Dr. Lee Rosen is still dealing with the reunion of sorts with his daughter Danielle Sofia, an Alpha with empathic contagion (a touch empathy). He has gone against every instinct of his own self-preservation to go public with the existence of Alphas, but at what price? When will Stanton Parish exact revenge upon him and his team? Further complications arise for him when he meets a young, undiagnosed Alpha from a small town in Maine.

-/-/-/-/-/-

**Chapter 1/?**

**A beginning**

Lee Rosen was always a private man. He had built a career as a noted neurologist and psychiatrist who had gathered, over the last nineteen or so years, a comprehensive body of research that dealt with "Alphas"… he preferred to call them "extraordinary people who have learned to stretch the capabilities of the human mind". He was considered compassionate by his peers (compassionate _to a fault_, by his Department of Defense supervisors), and somewhat an odd duck in his preference for old convertibles and the newest computer gadgets, but an effective physician nonetheless. He had once taken quite a bit of teasing for his purchase of a 1980 Fiat Spider; it had occupied him completely in the two years that it took to restore it to working condition after the painful dissolution of his marriage.

And so it was no surprise that when each of his team went their separate ways on that Friday evening in October, no one knew of his plans to spend a quiet weekend with his long-time friend Adele. He looked forward to slow-cooked mostly vegetarian dinners, a couple of bottles of New Zealand red wines, a few fiercely competitive games of backgammon or chess, and at least nine to ten hours of luxurious love-making with the woman whom he considered an intellectual, physical and spiritual equal.

They had met some years before while on a mission of mercy to west Africa, Lagos Nigeria to be exact, but the pair had fallen out of touch when Lee Rosen got married in upstate New York and went through the motions of settling down with his wife Ananda and daughter Danielle. When his marriage failed, and his father-daughter relationship strained far beyond its breaking point, he had reached out to Adele in a _very_ rare middle of the night moment of self-pity brought on by single-malt Scotch whisky. He considered it a truly special gift that she'd even considered picking up where they had left off some twenty-five years before.

Adele Tanner was a retired emergency room RN living in Baltimore, but had started out with a group called "Doctors without Borders" right after completing nursing school in Rhode Island. She had gone through numerous phases over her fifty-nine years, not the least of which was married with no kids, followed by single and wanting a child with whom to share her life. Now, she was a practicing yoga instructor and part-time home chef who specialized in Asian cuisines. Her current gustatory theme was usually Indian or southeastern Asian fish-eating vegetarian.

Lee waved a friendly goodbye to Sandra Bell, the hard-working single mother of Gary, the youngest member of his team of Alphas, and got back into the antique red Fiat. He checked his notes, reminding himself that he needed to stop at the grocery store on the way home, picking up several items which Adele had specifically requested for their Saturday meals. He felt a stirring in the core of his body that had very little to do with the delicious food he knew she wanted to prepare for him.

"Really now, Doctor Rosen, has it been _that_ long since you last had sex?" he inquired quietly of himself, smiling a little sheepishly as he pulled away from the Bell's driveway. He shook his head and turned up the CD player a few notches (Vivaldi was one of his favorite composers for music while driving). Here he was sixty-two years old and pining for a particular woman's company. Lee looked in the rear-view mirror and raised a sardonic eyebrow at his own reflection. He felt another flush rise when he recalled that Adele always called him "ruggedly attractive" and that she was frequently suggesting that he try "nude yoga" with her.

It did not take long for him to work his way through the supermarket, making sure to follow her list regarding her favorite brands and looking for "certified organic" produce which they would use for the stir-fry dishes. As he put the three reusable bags in the back seat, he failed to notice the two quivering figures hidden in the cramped space beneath the retracted convertible cover; Lee Rosen preferred to drive with the top down whenever he could, and his mind was elsewhere as he genuinely looked forward to Adele's arrival from Baltimore. She had family in New York and other locales in the northeast, so she frequently drove through the city on her way to upstate New York or Maine.

He hummed the last few bars of the Vivaldi violin piece as he pulled into his own driveway, and there was a spring in his step when he reached into the boot to retrieve the groceries. It was then that he heard the whimpering of a small dog, quickly shushed by a young voice.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" he asked, wondering who had stowed away, and when; upon later reflection, Lee would realize that it had to have been at the grocery store parking lot. He put the bags down and lifted the canvas gingerly. A small furry face looked out at him, whimpering plaintively.

"Come on, Chief," came a stressed whisper. "Be quiet, boy, _please_."

Lee saw a face framed by dirty brown hair, and realized that the dog and its companion were both very young indeed. He raised the cover further, and reached out a helping hand to the boy.

"You can come out now, son," he said gently. "It's alright. Here, take my hand and let me help you out of there. I don't imagine there's very much room for the two of you."

The boy flinched back, turning slightly and shielding the pup with his own slender body. Rosen wasn't sure if he saw dirt or bruises or both on the youngster's face. His sweatshirt was stained and one pants leg was torn down below the knee.

"I'm sorry, mister," the boy begged, not quite meeting his gaze. "Please don't hit him… he didn't make a mess!"

Rosen was taken aback, realizing that both boy and dog were genuinely frightened of him. "I would never hit anyone, I promise. I'm a doctor, in fact, Doctor Lee Rosen." He held out his hand, this time offering it as a greeting. Rosen was relieved when the boy took his hand and carefully scrambled out of the back of his car, dragging a dingy green backpack with him.

When he stood, the stow-away stumbled on an injured ankle but allowed Lee to help him steady himself as he leaned across the car to lift the puppy out and put him on the driveway. The dog wagged his tail, nose down, and headed into the grassy area, his body language communicating nothing less than "happy pup". Rosen put a hand on the boy's shoulder and he smiled reassuringly.

"Easy now, let's get you both inside so I can look at that bad ankle, okay?" Lee picked up one of the grocery bags with one hand and held the youngster with the other; he was glad the young man was willing to at least lean on him for support. "Try not to put any weight on it just yet; that's it, little hops should do it."

The boy hobbled alongside of him as Rosen activated the automatic garage door opener on his key-fob, and the pup sniffed enthusiastically in the lawn a few feet away. "Very good hopping, young man. I presume his name is Chief. What's yours?"

"Jonathan," was the polite reply. "Bouvin. Jonathan Bouvin, Doctor Rosen."

Rosen smiled down at him as he unlocked the door to his kitchen, setting down the grocery bag on the floor by the refrigerator. "Welcome to my home, Jonathan. Can you sit up there on the counter? I'll just be one second to get the other bags and see that your handsome Golden Retriever comes in too. That's his breed, right?"

Jonathan grinned, easily levering himself up onto the marble countertop. "Yes sir, he is. Nine and a half weeks old."

Lee quickly put some things away in the refrigerator and freezer, and ran fresh tap water into a ceramic bowl for the dog. Chief lapped noisily for a few moments, then found a spot under the breakfast nook table. Rosen removed his tie and jacket, and then found his medical bag in the kitchen closet and came back over to where Jonathan was quietly watching him.

With infinitely gentle hands, he eased off the boy's mud-caked sneakers and socks, revealing one badly bruised left ankle. Dried blood was evident on the right shin, but he merely noted the minor scrape as he continued his exam. Once he had his stethoscope around his neck, he noticed that the youngster had completely relaxed in his presence; he had at least had a few pediatrician visits to that point.

"I need to move your foot just a little, alright?" he told the boy and he checked the toes and ankle. "You may simply have a bad sprain."

Jonathan nodded. "I think I twisted it getting off the bus."

Rosen murmured his agreement, prodding the toes and noting that apart from the bruising, the foot was sound and had normal circulation. He straightened and put the stethoscope to his ears.

"May I listen to your chest? It might tickle a bit," he added with a smile as he warmed the bell with his tan shirtfront.

The boy shrugged and sat up taller; Rosen noted with approval that he could wiggle all of his toes. Not surprisingly, as Jonathan sat there on the kitchen counter, he instinctively started swinging his legs back and forth the way most children do when they are seated and cannot touch the floor. Lee carefully stepped to one side, not wanting the bump the injured ankle.

"Deep breaths please," Rosen requested, his glasses sliding down a bit as he tilted his head to listen. "Good, and again Jonathan…" He moved the bell under the dirty sweatshirt, not wanting to push his new patient's personal boundaries too much.

By the time Rosen had listened to his chest sounds, and quickly examined the boy's blood pressure, eyes and ears, Jonathan was yawning widely, showing healthy, white teeth.

He put away the stethoscope and sphygmomanometer, and turned to the sink to wash his hands. "I don't think you have any broken bones, just a sprain," he told the boy, looking back over his shoulder as he stood at the faucet. "Is there someone we can telephone? Your mother must be worried sick about you."

The legs stopped swinging and the youngster's mood chilled instantly. "No sir, my mother is dead and I…" He searched quickly for, and found his backpack, dragging it to his shoulder. Before Rosen could stop him, he'd gotten down from the counter and was about to call the puppy to his side.

"I'm sorry to hear that. Should we call your father?"

The boy was getting frantic, stepped awkwardly on his injured leg and fell in a painful pile on the tile floor. Concern written all over his face even as his clinical mind was finally putting the few pieces together, Lee helped Bouvin to a seat and gradually eased the back pack strap off. The puppy barked once or twice at their feet, but quieted when the youngster touched his ears, a tender gesture.

"Jonathan, I'm sorry, truly I am. I'm trying to help you, to be your friend," Rosen said earnestly. He realized now that the boy was shaking like a leaf. Wincing at a twinge in his knee, Lee knelt down in front of the sad-eyed boy, whose face was twitching and scrunching up in his efforts not to cry.

"I won't go back there, back up to Maine, never ever! He drinks, he hits me and then he goes out driving around to his girlfriends' houses," Jonathan said fiercely, his lips trembling with emotion. "I _hate_ him, Dr. Rosen, I _hate_ my dad and I'm not _troubled_, I'm not _weird_…" Right before his eyes, Rosen saw the armor breaking apart in a child who had kept it together for so long.

Lee Rosen flinched inwardly, now realizing that his houseguest was a runaway who had left an abusive household. His compassionate nature was moving rapidly the forefront, reopening paternal instincts, and wounds, he'd long forgotten about.

"I will help you as much as I can, I will. I'm sorry that I didn't understand before, but thank you for trusting me enough to tell me about your home." He reached up to brush the long hair back from the boy's face, willing him not to look away again.

Rosen continued: "I promise I will do my best to help you if you help me, alright?"

Despite himself, the boy was curious, and he drew a shuddering breath. "Um, how can I help you? I mean, you're a grown up and…" Unshed tears pooled in Jonathan's chocolate brown eyes.

Rosen chuckled softly. "I mean that you can help me by talking to me, and trusting me to try to understand better. That way, I can protect you."

"And Chief?"

"Of course, and Chief too. I like him very much," Lee replied. He smiled, giving the boy a wink before he stood, trying to ignore the crackling sounds in his knee.

Jonathan was quiet, closing his eyes and drawing several quaking breaths. He looked up at Rosen and nodded. "Thank you," he sighed and then the floodgates opened as the tears finally came, and he wept into Dr. Rosen's shirt, wrapping both arms tightly around the older man's waist.

Lee was completely aware that all he needed to do at that moment was to let Jonathan cry himself out, and so he stood there, murmuring reassurances and resting a warm hand on the boy's back. He drew a calming breath himself as a memory of his Alpha-and-addict daughter, Danielle, came rushing back to him. He shook his head with regret, wishing now that he'd been _there_ for her and for his wife.

It was several minutes until the boy finally quieted again, and Rosen handed him a damp paper towel to wipe his face and eyes. Lee bent down to look Jonathan directly in the face, and was rewarded by a teary, crooked smile before he stepped away to open the refrigerator.

"I think you are hungry and exhausted, young man," he commented, pouring a glass of juice and handing it to the boy. In perfect timing, Bouvin's stomach growled loudly.

"Yes, sir." Jonathan giggled, blushing a little. "That's true."

"Then I prescribe a small, healthy meal followed by a warm bath and a good night's sleep," Rosen said in his kindest "doctor voice" as he checked the digital clock on the stovetop… just after nine. It was fully dark outside and Adele probably had another hour or so of driving. His cell phone chimed its receipt of a text message, as if it had read his thoughts. "Abt 1 hr. B naked. A." was the short message from Adele.

Lee smiled, pulling a box of steel-cut oats from the cupboard. "How about oatmeal? I have fresh blueberries."

Bouvin wrinkled his nose, teasing. "I've never had oatmeal for dinner, Dr. Rosen, but it does sound pretty good."

Rosen raised one eyebrow and chuckled. "Stick with me, kid. Oatmeal is an _amazing_ dinner."

TBC?

A/N: thank you kindly for reading this far. I really didn't intend to write a cross-over fic for Alphas and Haven, but with all of the season finales this week, the plot bunnies were striking fast and furious. We'll see how it goes. Darn you, Syfy channel.


	2. Chapter 2

"Sins of the fathers, burdens of the sons"

An Alphas fan-fic, set shortly after the end of Season 1. I didn't mean for it to, but this may turn into a mild crossover fic whether I like it or not.

Disclaimer: I am not Zak Penn or Michael Karnow, I do not own "Alphas", and I do not make money from these stories.

Rating: K+ to T (just to be on the safe side); LR/OFC; CH/NT.

A/N: Dr. Lee Rosen is still dealing with the reunion of sorts with his daughter Danielle Sofia, an Alpha with empathic contagion (a touch empathy). He has gone against every instinct of his own self-preservation to go public with the existence of Alphas, but at what price? When will Stanton Parish exact revenge upon him and his team? Further complications arise for him when he meets a young, undiagnosed Alpha from a small town in Maine.

**Chapter 2/?**

**Everybody loves pancakes, right?**

He awoke in a warm tangle of naked limbs and bed sheets, and was momentarily disoriented, still dwelling in the twilight of not quite awake, yet no longer deeply asleep. As he opened his eyes and slowly took inventory of somewhat sore muscles throughout his body that told of pleasant extra-curricular nighttime activities, Lee Rosen realized that he was indeed, nude in his own bed and that he was not alone. He looked slightly to his right, and was greeted by a sleepy smile as filtered autumn morning sunlight streamed in through the window.

"Doctor Livingstone, I presume?" Adele asked with a cheeky grin and a deep sigh of contentment, kissing the tip of his nose and rubbing her forehead against his. She brushed back a thick lock of hair, tucking it neatly behind her ear.

Rosen chuckled softly and reached back with his left hand to find the glasses he had carefully placed on the nightstand. He blinked owlishly and smiled at her when his vision cleared. "And Nurse Nightingale, I presume? Please tell me I haven't been sleeping with H.M. Stanley. He's really not my type, madam."

She pinched his bare thigh, laughing quietly at his corny joke. "Interesting suggestion for a threesome, but no, I think I would have a very difficult time sharing you with him. Good morning, Lee." Adele rolled gracefully out of bed and pulled on his soft cotton blue robe, wondering yet again why he liked such a short garment; it barely covered anything.

Lee stretched both arms way over his head, grabbing the headboard, and then he too sat up in bed. The sheet tangled around his waist when he moved so he took an extra moment or two to actually get to his feet. He stood naked for a moment to get his bearings, and since his bathrobe was already occupied, he pulled on the loose-fitting shorts and "Johns Hopkins" sweatshirt that he'd worn for a few hours the night before. He padded over to where she was investigating the contents of her small rolling suitcase, leaning down to kiss the back of her neck.

"Adele, thank you for being here," Rosen said sincerely as he caressed her bare arm. "I know you weren't expecting an extra pair of houseguests this weekend."

"I'm sure you weren't either, babe," she answered warmly, standing with her clothing selection and a small hairbrush. "But you know that I can't fault you for your kindness to stray kittens and lost kids." When Adele had arrived the night before, letting herself in with her spare key, she'd found him asleep in his favorite reading chair, an American Psychiatrist Association journal opened across his chest.

"Speaking of," said Lee as he slipped around the bedroom door, preparing to close it behind him. "I'll go check on Jonathan; no need for him to overdo it on that sprained ankle. Take your time, my dear. We'll head downstairs to see what we can put together for breakfast too." More often than not, he knew that she preferred to shower in the morning and it gave him a momentary twinge of disappointment that he could not join her. Perhaps later.

Rosen moved quietly along the upstairs hallway in his bare feet. He knocked softly on the spare bedroom's door and was greeted with an immediate reply.

"Come in, Dr. Rosen. I'm awake," said the boy, sitting up in bed with his longish brown hair in total disarray from the pillows. His hair stuck out here and there, but at least now it was clean. He looked even younger in amongst the blankets that surrounded him like a nest. This image was compounded since Jonathan was wearing one of Lee's t-shirts that was several sizes too big for him; his own clothes, including those in the backpack, were filthy after his travels south from Maine and had practically made their own way into the laundry room.

"Did you sleep well, my friend?" Lee came closer and sat on the edge of the bed.

"I think so, yes. It was comfortable in here," replied Jonathan. "Thank you, Dr. Rosen."

Rosen nodded, smiling at the youngster's pleasant manners. "You are welcome. How is your ankle feeling? I'm not sure if we should wrap it for support today or not."

He was looking forward to his usual morning swim and made a mental note to ask the boy if he knew how to swim; the non-impact exercise would be good for the healing process. Rosen tried to get in a total of two miles each day as part of his daily exercise regimen.

With a few seconds of squirming around as he was rolled up in the bedclothes, Bouvin finally got his injured ankle exposed for the doctor to examine.

"I think you are well on the mend, young man," Rosen told him. "Here, I found some sweatpants but they will be a little baggy on you."

Jonathan laughed. "I don't care. They feel nice." He reached up to take Rosen's hand, helping him out of bed but taking care not to step down too abruptly once he'd pulled on the grey sweatpants.

Together, they made their way down to the kitchen, and Lee offered several choices of something to drink. "I usually have a special morning blend, but it's an acquired taste if you'd like to try it. We also have tea, milk or cocoa." Rosen stopped on his way to the pantry to let the dog in from the garage. Hindquarters waggling, Chief made his way over to Jonathan, yipping a morning greeting.

As Dr. Rosen busied himself in the kitchen, Bouvin got down on the floor to sit with his dog. Lee shook his head fondly, acknowledging the fact that both were very young. In the previous night's brief conversation, he'd learned that Jonathan would be ten years old on his next birthday, January 26th; the same date as Rosen's birthday.

"You'll likely be very hungry today, Jonathan," Rosen commented. "I'm sure Chief is too."

"I have some money left," Jonathan replied between licks to his face. "Is there a store close by… for dog food, I mean?"

Lee had to laugh at the enthusiastic greeting the boy was getting from his puppy. "Yes, there is, not far. We'll head over in a few minutes if you like. He seems very happy to see you this morning."

"Mmff, yes sir," said Bouvin, gently pushing the wet tongue away. "He told me it was scary at first last night, but later he found my dirty shirt to sleep on."

Rosen's interest was piqued. "He _told_ you?" This was an Alpha-ability he'd never encountered before, beyond books and movies along the lines of "Doctor Doolittle" from the 1960s.

Jonathan smiled a little shyly, getting up to wash his face and hands at the kitchen sink before he sat back down; his ankle was much improved after a good night's rest and he hardly limped on it. "Of course. And he says thank you for helping us. Oh, and when we go to the store, can we pick up some teething treats? Chief says his baby teeth are getting itchy."

Lee put a mug of cocoa on the bar, and poured his own warm wheat grass and barley infusion to sit next to the youngster. He too received a greeting from the friendly puppy and then the Goldie waddled toward his water bowl.

"I am curious," Lee began conversationally, his clinical mind churning and processing details. "Do you only talk to your dog, or is it possible for you to interact with other animals?" He wondered how much of this potential ability was a normal, imaginative child, and how much might be characteristic of an un-diagnosed Alpha.

Jonathan tasted his hot chocolate, and wiped the little mustache off of his upper lip with his fingers. "Oh, all animals; it's easy. Plants too, but I really, really have to listen carefully. They're super quiet around here in a city. I can hear them much better up in the woods where there's not so much noise and stuff." The boy shrugged and spoke rather nonchalantly. Rosen noticed right away that he spoke of his ability as being "easy".

"Is this what you meant last night when you said the other children at school called you 'weird'? I for one think it's an interesting ability you have."

Bouvin sighed but Rosen was glad to see that the boy no longer looked away from him, embarrassed. "Yes sir, that's part of it. My dad doesn't like it because I wouldn't hunt or fish with him… not because it's gross or whatever, I just don't want to _hurt_ something that wants to talk to me." He shrugged again, thinking of how best to explain to the doctor.

Rosen was about to ask another question when he saw the boy's jaw drop open as he looked past the doctor's shoulder. Coming into the kitchen at that moment was Adele, carrying her small glass and polished stainless steel French coffee press under one arm. Lee was constantly amused that she had tried his Ayurvedic grain infusion exactly one time, and then insisted that she needed her "proper coffee, forever hereafter thank you" when she visited his house. The two of them were mature enough to appreciate both their similarities and their differences.

"Ah, Jonathan, let me introduce you," Lee said, rising as she came over to the breakfast bar. "This is my very good friend Adele Tanner. Adele, I'd like you to meet our guest Jonathan Bouvin."

Adele smiled indulgently when she realized the boy was blushing as he stood to shake her hand. "Hi Jonathan, it's nice to meet you. Coffee?" She leaned in to kiss Rosen on the cheek.

Jonathan grinned at her humor. "I already have hot chocolate, thank you ma'am."

Lee winked at her over the rim of his mug as she pulled a package of coffee grounds from the freezer. As soon as her back was turned though, Jonathan leaned over and whispered in Rosen's ear: "She's _beautiful_, Dr. Rosen!"

Rosen had to grin as he whispered back: "_Very, very_". He was touched by the easy way Jonathan reacted, and by his honesty. They clinked their mugs together in solidarity.

"I don't know about you two gentlemen, but I am starving this morning," said Adele, rummaging in the crisper drawers of the refrigerator. She held up a pint of blueberries; it was about half full. "Oatmeal and fresh fruit?"

Jonathan and Rosen looked at each other, the boy crinkling up his nose. "No thank you, ma'am. We had oatmeal for dinner last night," he said.

Adele laughed, rolling her eyes at Rosen as she found the whole-wheat flour on the nearby pantry shelf. "Blueberry pancakes it is, then. Excellent with tofurkey bacon."

Jonathan raised both arms victoriously, which made Adele grin even more broadly. "Yeah! Wait, what kind of bacon did you say, ma'am?"

-/-/-/-/-/-

Lee lay back into the pillows that were propped against the headboard, eyes closed, catching his breath and feeling his heartbeat slowly return to normal. Adele cradled languidly into his side and shoulder, and he was vaguely aware of her teasing fingers winding their way in his chest hair. He sighed as they both stretched out sore legs, letting the ceiling fan cool their naked bodies.

"You're wonderful," he whispered into her forehead, placing a gentle kiss. "How do I deserve such good fortune?"

Rosen felt and heard a soft chuckle in reply, but the fingers did not stop their random movements on his chest. He actually shivered under her touch, gooseflesh rising. "I was just going to ask you the same thing." Adele rose up on one elbow, and kissed him deeply for several moments.

"Basketball and swimming are his sports, by the way," she said when she came up for air, chewing gently on the inside of her lower lip.

Rosen was confused but then he saw the subtle sly smile on her face. He shook his head. "I'm sorry, whose sports?"

Adele smiled widened, her eyes twinkling at him. "Jonathan's. Our young houseguest's chosen sports; basketball in the fall and winter, then swimming in the summer… that was the last coherent question you managed to ask me anyway, before we came upstairs for our nap after lunch."

"I did?"

"Yes, you did, doctor, before you ravished me completely and had your wicked way with my body," she continued, delighted that he was going along. "You have a very interesting idea when it comes to 'playing doctor' by the way, and a very stimulating bedside manner." He grinned back at her and shifted to one side, now embracing the woman with his arms and legs.

"Oh, yes, I do recall now that I had to remove quite a bit of your clothing prior to examining you," he whispered between kisses, finding new bare spots on her shoulders and neck to caress with his lips. "Thank you for reminding me." As ever, Lee was astonished at the softness of her skin, and the intoxicating feel of her body as they made love. Adele responded quickly and Rosen actually growled in mild frustration when her cell phone rang on the nightstand beside them.

She checked the number before clicking the receiver tab. "I'm sorry babe, I should take this. Hello, Nathan, yeah, thank you for getting back to me so quickly..." Adele had told Lee about her cousin up in Maine, a detective in the Haven Police Department.

Lee pulled the sheet up as a light cover and he lay back quietly, listening to one side of the conversation as Adele shared details about Jonathan Bouvin with her cousin.

-/-/-/-/-/-

"There you go," said Adele as she shook out the towel from around his neck and shoulders. She held a mirror for him as the youngster rubbed one ear; a small nick had bled from the scissors, but it was only a minor cut. "I'm sorry about that."

"It's okay," said the boy cheerfully, shading his eyes against the sunset's glare. "It doesn't even hurt." He chuckled as he looked at his reflection, the new short haircut revealing a pale neckline. "Yes, I like it. Thank you, ma'am!"

Adele smiled down at him as he got to his feet. "It's my pleasure. You needed it, didn't you?"

Jonathan nodded, hopping gingerly from the chair and easing toward the steps of the pool. A few seconds later, he was gliding along the bottom of the pool as a goggled Lee Rosen swam past. Adele gathered up the towel, scissors and comb, and stepped into the kitchen to check on the vegetable casserole. A waft of cooking herb and onion aromas rose around her as she closed the sliding glass door.

None of them noticed the shadowy figure watching them from a balcony on the building across the street. The end of his cigarette glowed bright red as he shook his head and adjusted the compact video camera he held.

TBC?


End file.
